APPLSEED a novelization- ON HIATUS
by AoUsagi
Summary: This is a novelization of the movie, of how Deunan is trying to survive in the harsh Badlands...and then, the impossible happens...rated T, just to be sure
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Death solves anything

MY FATHER ONCE TOLD ME that no matter how bad off your life seems, there's always someone worse off than you.

Which pretty much shot my plan to all heck, if you can see my point. No? Okay. I'll explain.

The silence was penetrating the cold night air, and the metal of the P90 against my arm was frigid, having not been used for a while.

My night vision sensors scanned the desolate, blown out buildings around me. I knew that the quiet would be interrupted. It never lasted.

Something waited in the darkness around me. Something, somewhere.

Not that this mattered. My fire team was the best of the best, not meaning to sound full of myself, and we had this current mission.

It was simple and clear. Take a message and some high explosives from one side of what used to be New York to the other side.

Was this going to be easy? No. Was it really that simple? Of course not. Did my men and I know exactly what we were heading into? A pit full of angry snakes, to say the least, or, in some cases, metaphorically.

They weren't real snakes. Those creatures had died out longer ago when they could no longer stand the blistering heat that has overcome their natural habitat.

These were soldiers from the Other Side. They were enemies, and we had to wade straight into them and were expected to wade right through them to the other end of the city.

My men and I were on our last leg of the journey. We'd already spent two days and a night crossing the city, and now we were almost in sight of the home stretch.

So here are some pick-me-up details that I haven't yet mentioned.

I am Second Platoon Leader Deunan Knute, daughter of Colonel Carl Knute, who in turn was a commander of the Fourth Battalion.

I was originally destined for the Fourth Battalion, but after my father's death the army kicked me out into my own Platoon. Damn them.

Anyway, my fire team was made up of my best Platoon members: communications specialist Jadane Walker; First Lieutenant James Raffin; Sergeant Herod Bann and Laurent Adams, a much cherished mechanic who was always ready to lift his spanner to fix our out-of-date combat vehicles.

And of course, we were all soldiers, trained who to use both gun and knife. But then again, no one had been better than Briareos.

Briareos Hecatonchires and I had had a special relationship. Most called us rebel lovers, but when we were together, everything that everyone else said slipped away, locked itself in a box and refused to come out again for a while.

Briareos had been the First Platoon Leader of the Third Battalion, the battalion that I was dedicated to.

Had been. None us know why he left, or when. I was the last soldier to be seen with him, and for some time people thought that I'd killed him myself to eliminate competition. This wasn't at all true. I loved Briareos. But one day he said he was going up ahead to scout around, and then he just didn't come back.

If I haven't explained this already, we're fighting a war.

A big one.

World War III, to be precise. And this time, the entire world was involved, gaining the name of the Global War.

I turned my attention away from the nagging thoughts of Briareos and tuned into the dark world around me. Shadows lingered in every corner, threatening to come closer.

There was the telltale sound of a far off tank approaching, and I checked on my team. In a blown out shelter that had once been a hotel building, Jadane waited with a heat-seeking missile. He just loved his old out dated Hammer, and wasn't about to give it up for just one mission.

Then there was Herod, dark skinned and bald, with a rocket launcher set high on his broad shoulder, waiting for use, on the next level down from Jadane. I checked over on the ground level, about a hundred meters away from myself, and zoomed in to see James quickly jumping into position behind a pillar that had once been part of the same grand hotel that Jadane was in.

I knew that Laurent was waiting closer to our exit point, carrying a heat-seeking missile launcher, an upgrade to Jadane's.

The tank was coming closer. I was guessing it used diesel oil, which was doing nothing good for the atmosphere. I had to design a type of petrol for people to use in tanks, it would run on stuff like carbon dioxide and could be charged up with solar power. This was assuming that you only wanted to use it at night.

No matter. I had been getting frequently distracted over the last couple of weeks, getting little or no sleep at all. In total, I can crash for about thirty minutes before I wake up suddenly, sure that the enemy is breathing down the back of my neck. So what's that saying? You're not paranoid if someone really is chasing you?

The rumbling moved closer, and was then cut off.

I had no idea that I was millimetres from death.

The cyborg mercenaries raced in a pack through the dimly lit carnage, barely outlined by the sliver of the moon.

They had one mission: Seek. Destroy.

The fire team was close. So close, in fact, that they were vivid red blinks on the mercenaries radar scanners. The pack came silent and fast, going straight for the soldier with the heat-seeking missile in the blown out hotel.

One of them branched off and the others headed down the broken escalator steps to the soldier on the ground level.

The one who had stayed on course headed straight up to the soldier, only slowing when it was about ten meters away.

Jadane Walker never saw it coming.

The mercenary grabbed him by the neck and twisted him around violently, shoving him against the pillar behind him. Jadane croaked and gasped, but before he could make any real sound, the mercenary cyborg had stabbed its sharp, metal claws through Jadane's ribs, piercing his lungs, and then let him slide helplessly to the ground to die in agony.

The next mercenary that headed towards the dark skinned man, who was on the next level down.

It wasn't as quiet as the first mercenary, and Herod had about five seconds to whip around before he saw his own agonized eyes reflected in the glowing red of the mercenary's eyes.

On the ground level, the third mercenary cyborg landed with a sharp clank, causing James Raffin to spin and started firing. The bullets merely glanced off the hard plated amour of the mercenary, which ran straight for him, and then flipped over his head.

James didn't even have time to cry out before the mercenary had grabbed his head between its powerful hands and began squeezing. The soldier's skull cracked and blood spurted, and the mercenary flung the dead body away, Raffin's head crushed and his blood on the mercenary's hands.

I heard the shots. They had come from James' area. I turned to see his position, only to see darkness. No outline in my visionary goggles that gave me a heat signature.

This was bad.

I looked to check on Jadane, but he wasn't at his position. What was going on? Herod wasn't at his station, either. That meant…

Oh shit.

Cyborg mercenaries. That was all I needed. Like, _right now._

It was only me now, me and Laurent, who probably had no idea what had happened. God, none of this would be so confusing if Briareos was here…

_Shut up!_ I told myself sternly, shouting the words in my head. _Quit wimping around and actually pretend that you don't rely on Briareos like he's a life support system. Be strong, Deunan!_

Being strong may sound easy, but not when you have no clue what's going on around you. So I was pretty much with my back against the wall. Literally.

I kept whipping around, left and right, searching for any sign that might tell me where the enemy was…I wondered vaguely if the tank was connected to the mercenary attacks, when all hell broke loose.

The cyborg's crashed through an upper storey window in the hotel building above me, raining shards of glass and pieces of shrapnel and other crap down on me. Instinctively, I began firing, holding my finger down on the trigger of my P90 for as long as it would let me.

The mercenary's landed, and they were quite literally _everywhere._ They circled me slowly, as if wondering how to react to the way I had responded to them dropping in. I swayed slowly, attempting to keep my aim on every one of them at the same time.

Of course, that stuff's for stunts in Hollywood.

Nevermind.

It was as if they were memorizing me, taking in every detail and feature, as if for future reference.

Sorry, but there would be no future for these suckers.

Suddenly, before I could totally understand what it did, one of the merc's swung a huge, clawed fist at me. As a primary reflex I brought my P90 up and blocked the blow, and heard the violent sound of steel on gun metal. Ow.

And then, they were all there, taking shots and swings at me, and I defended myself with every fibre in my being.

_Block. Duck. Swing. Kick. _Every single attack and evasive manoeuvre my father had ever taught me was racing through my head in rapid fire succession. I braced myself against one of the cyborgs, and as I swung my P90 up again to thump it, it grabbed hold of my gun and tried to wrestle it out of my grip. I grunted and hauled back, but it pulled me across its barrel chest, and then knocked me back, flinging my night vision goggles off of my face.

I was on my hands and knees, but far from finished. I couldn't help myself; I smiled. Seriously.

I flipped up in a backwards handspring and pulled out the bolter pistol that was strapped to my thigh. As I landed, I let go of two shots, straight into the merc's chest. It staggered backwards, sparking violently, just as another aimed a low hand at my skull. I dropped back and swung away, only to be confronted again. This time, as the mercenary took a kick at me, I did a complete back-flip, and as I went over, I saw another cyborg behind me, and shot him once with the bolter, straight through the head.

As I landed hard on the concrete, I went straight into a roll, using the force of my land and conducting it through my shoulders to give me leverage up. I got into a balanced position, only to have a merc swing at me again.

I shot it's ankle out from under it, and it went clunking down. You see, they were mainly human looking, but they had red, glowing eyes and they had those expressionless faces that told you they were nothing but cold hearted killers.

I pushed myself up to my feet, darting away from the next cyborg. I ran straight, and was then cornered again. The cyborg smashed its fist into the wall where my head had been seconds before. Geez – why was I so popular on the hit list? Probably because I was the leader of this fire team, and whoever these mercenary's were working for didn't want us getting to the other side of the blown out city.

Probably.

I took off, running at full pelt. There had been a mercenary hiding around the next corner, and now, it sprung out at me, its deadly clawed paw extended, probably meant to rip out my guts or something. Gross. I tried not to think of it too hard as I did a front flip over the cyborgs hand and then kept running.

Coming up was a ledge, close to where I'd heard the tank, and where Laurent was positioned. I hoped to God he had my back.

I jumped off the ledge, and landed in the square below. The square was separate from the outside by a large wall of glass and concrete. I suddenly heard it – the roar of a tanks engine. It had spotted its prey: moi.

All of a sudden, everything was silent, and then I saw: the tank was rearing up behind the huge glass-and-concrete wall. Impact: immanent.

It crashed the screen with a deafening noise, lading only meters away from me. I glared defiantly down the barrel, which swung around to face me. Oh God – this night was only just beginning, even though it had to be about five am.

Without turning, I motioned with one hand to Laurent. He stood immediately and fired the heat seeking missile, but the heat of the tank, and the tanks own missile turned the shot he fired right back at him, blowing him into oblivion before he could say "oops".

I skidded back, one hand up to shield my eyes, and I couldn't help but gasp. I was alone now, alone and facing some of the most dangerous, cold blooded creations in history, with nothing to fight them with but a P90. That at that moment had decided to run out of ammo. Great.

Welcome to my life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

The Dawn of Morning

AS I RAN, MY HEART was pounding in my chest. If I got through the night, I would be the luckiest soldier to have lived. No jokes. Cyborg mercenaries were the worst – I'd never faced them before, but I'd heard the rumours and stories that drifted through the battle fields, of how people had been ripped, limb from limb, by these creatures without a second chance. And now, I'd experience it first hand.  
Plus, they had a freaking _tank_, so as I swerved away from it and sprinted for my life across the courtyard littered with rubble, I realized that if I wasn't going to be lucky enough to escape a tank, I wasn't going to make it out of here. The main turret of the tank began to spray the wall just meters behind me with massive rounds, flak flying everywhere – "peppering" is the understatement of the century in this situation, as there was no such _thing_ as "peppering" when it came to tanks. Or perhaps I'm just being pedantic because I've had a bad night.

_Be strong, Deunan, _a voice pounded in my head. _You're the strongest._

Something that both my father and Briareos had always said – never give up, never say die, unless you're screaming it at the enemy and blasting a mini-Vulcan at their ass. _Then_ it gets labelled as epic. But still, the bullets getting spat from the tanks main turret were gaining on me, and I only had one chance to make it from the courtyard – and I needed to choose my precise moment.

There was a statue in the courtyard, of an angel Saint, cradling a small child. I skirted around the statue, passing nowhere near it, but for a fraction of a second, I had it between the tank and me. And in that split moment, the bullets shattered the angels wings, broke it into so many pieces, dust and concrete falling and spraying everywhere – but it was enough. I threw myself forward as the shrapnel rained down, gaining a head start on the tank's shells, which then by-passed the crumbling statue and continued to rain their hell down upon me. Saved by the saint – I couldn't even begin to imagine the jokes Briareos would have cracked should this be a normal situation, should he actually be here. But he wasn't, so there were no _"Deunan-got-saved-by-the-saint-and-it's-so-funny-coz-she-doesn't-believe-in-the-whole-God-mish-mash" _jokes_._ There was just me, running for my life. And it sucked, big time.

But I reached an alleyway, only to here the tank following me, not that far behind, still firing. Jeezum Pete, whoever was driving that thing needed a lesson or two, because yes, they were persistent, and persistency usually gets you were you want to go or who you want to kill in the end, but seriously? This was overkill – but it was serious overkill. Whoever had killed off my team wanted me dead, and they wanted me dead now.

Unfortunately, I don't die easily. I've proved that time after time, be it on the battlefield or in the base, I don't go down without a fight. It's a known fact, so whoever this yahoo tailing my ass now was, they obviously hadn't read the manual that states very clearly "DO NOT PISS OFF DEUNAN KNUTE."  
Well, there isn't really a manual that reads that, but it would be handy if there was, because a lot of seasoned soldiers could have saved themselves broken noses from my fist – but hey, we don't live in that sort of world, so I guess we just have to go with whatever we have.

The tank had reached the other end of the alley, just as I tripped – dammit! I went down hard, but was almost immediately back on my feet, checking behind me just as it rolled up, braked hard, and started firing again. I only just missed getting my ankles getting turned into bloody scraps as I swerved around the wall to my left – and the tank had reached the end of where it could run. But, sadly, it still seemed to think that it's bullets could go through anything.

Which, let's face it, wasn't too bad a guess, as they shells shoved straight through the wall above my head, barely two meters behind me. Shrapnel and flak spat everywhere, and my breath was coming in gasps now – I couldn't keep running. I had to stop – or my body would stop for me. I'd never run so hard or fast in my life – the sawn-off strapped to my thigh was my last defence, but suddenly, it was a dead weight against my leg, dragging me down.

No, I could do this – I could make it, I just had to reach the street up ahead -  
I tugged the sawn-off out of it's holster with as mush strength as I could spare as I sprinted out into the open road, when I realized something – the tank behind me had stopped firing. But there was an engine roar, and a second tank flew into my line of sight, and, as if yanked from a cord that had reached the end of it's reel, I skittered to a halt, drawing my weapon up to match the height of the tanks barrel. It's turret came around, focused on me, and held my gaze, staring down at me like one big, silent, all-seeing eye. I was about to break the gaze and make a dash for the nearest overturned skip, which shouldn't have been too far away, but the first tank had found a way around the walls, and now, it came up behind me, stopping parallel to the second one – and now, I had no chance of escape. This was it – and cyborg mercenaries were closing in on all sides. This one time, I was going to have to accepted defeat.

The floodlights that shone from the tops of the tanks crossed paths, catching me in a square-shaped glare. Everywhere I looked, as my chest heaved for breath, my lungs ached and my head pounded, I was surrounded, with no hope of going anywhere anytime soon.

In the distance, not too far away, I could suddenly hear another engine – this time, I recognized it as a plane, or a chopper – and I realized that I was going to pass out. This happened every time I ran too fast and stopped even faster – blood would rush to my head and I'd be out for at least an hour straight. I fantasized about this all being a stupid dream, that I'd wake up in the morning to see Jadane cooking gruel over a trangia, Laurent and Herod cracking stupid jokes about anything and everything, and James standing guard, watching and waiting for anything. But I was brought abruptly back down to earth as I heard two shots, full metal jackets, I was guessing, get fired from not too far off. The second tank was hit both times – it sparked, and there was a surprised pause before it exploded into flames. I was tossed back, and I saw several of the mercenaries also get thrown – one or two who were standing too close were even dismembered by the blast. As I landed, I shook myself quickly and looked up as I heard the roar of the plane's engine overhead – not a plane, but an Osprey banked high in the night sky, it's bright lights combing the area quickly, and for a second, they swiped over me, and then continued on. There was a logo on the side of the Osprey – S.W.A.T? But S.W.A.T had been dispanded before the war – but all the same, if they were blowing up the tanks that were going to blow me up, then I was all for it. I stood shakily, just in time to see the second tank raise its turret to meet the incoming Osprey, but another two shots rang out in clear precision, and the second tank also went up with a very impressive boom. I dived out of the way again, and ducked behind some rubble – my sawn-off had been yanked from my grip in the force of the first blast. Now, all I had was the old handgun that my father had left in my hands as he'd died – I never believed that I'd need it, but I always kept it on me, for a memento of my father.

The Osprey swooped into the main street of the city we were in, opened its side hatches, and I saw – wait, were those _mech-suits_ coming out? About twice the height of the normal human being, they were designed to carry people that controlled them from inside – six arms, two smaller tucked into the body, and two larger outer ones, which carried a gun. A _massive freaking gun_, at that. The smaller arms were regulated to fit the riders arms, which controlled the movements and – you know what? Scrap it. I'll explain later. About seven or eight of the mech-suits landed in the street, using the momentum of their land to launch themselves forward, and they formed a rough line blocking the street, and, with some kneeling and others standing, they opened fire on the mercenaries.

Well. Remind me never to get on the receiving end of one of those mech-suits, because I swear, none of them went down under the return fire of the cyborgs. The mercenaries, on the other hand, were torn to shreds by the bullets that seemed to carve straight through them, and soon, there was nothing left of them but a gross, biomechanical mess all over the street.

I glanced out from where I had hidden myself in a small dip in one buildings wall, and as I saw the mech-suits lower their guard as the last of the mercenaries became robo-con-carneae, and then, with one last effort, I sprung from my position and ran straight for the suits before they could raise their weapons again – because hey, friendly or not, they'd just saved my butt, but I wasn't going to let them play families just because I owed them one. I was out of here.  
Unfortunately, as I skidded through the legs of one of the suits, they seemed to get the wrong idea about me saying, "hi thanks, bye thanks", turned, and fired at me. Twice. I heard the shots ring, but they sounded different to before, more hollow – as if they weren't actually real bullets –

I had no time or chance to check, as the rounds slammed into my back at the same time, sending me for a flying lesson. Instantly, I felt my limbs go numb, and my mind felt drugged, tired and all I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep.

_Sleep. _It sounded like such a good idea, that I didn't even register hitting the ground.

'Requirements fits perfectly with the data's prediction,' the voice over the radio noted as the Osprey came into land, guided down by the Landmate's it was informing. 'Target acquired. Target acquired.'

As it touched down, a ladder extended from the hold, a door opened, and a young woman stepped out, her long, pale legs bathed white in the light of the Osprey's headlights, and her bright red high-heels clicking as she stepped down into the concrete hell of the battlefield. She was wearing a short denim skirt, matched with a denim jacket that had its sleeves rolled up, and a plain white shirt under that. Her apparel wasn't exactly suitable for a battlefield; however, she noticed none of this – only the soldier lying unconscious on the ground not far off, surrounded by the Landmate operators, who weren't quite sure what to do now that the target had been acquired. Their orders had been simple, now it was up to the bigwigs to do their job.

'Step aside, will you?' the young woman asked, pushing her way through the rough circle of Landmates, each with ES.W.A.T printed in bold white letters along their thighs. She gave one a small shove, not meaning to be mean but want them all to step back, and they complied, some going to help others around the Osprey. The young woman drew in a breath as she knelt beside the soldier, her hand resting gently on the soldier's sweating back. She checked for a heartbeat, finding it on the inside of the soldier's wrist, just below the fingerless black combat gloves the soldier wore to protect her hands.

'The problem with these tranquillizer rounds is that they bruise the body,' she said sadly, sitting back on her heels as another cyborg walked up – he was different, however. He had metallic ears that stood up on his head like large rabbit ears, and his armour was different to that of the cyborg mercenaries that his fellow ES.W.A.T members wore. Also, his armour was smaller, suited to his tall height, and clad him like he belonged in there – and he did.

'That's her,' he confirmed, the five eyes on his face, one large, middle one and two smaller ones on each side, flashing with each words. 'Deunan Knute has been secured.'

The young woman found that she heard – was the relief in the cyborg's voice? She couldn't really tell, but as the ES.W.A.T members loaded up the Osprey, gathered Deunan onto a stretcher and loaded her into the hold, the young woman found herself sending a prayer to heaven as the sky slowly began to fade from dark to dawn – that this be the last time they conducted one of these battlefield-rescue mission. Half the soldiers they rescued died from shock or wounds before they could get proper medical help – ES.W.A.T had been lucky with Deunan. The young woman could only hope that their luck held out, just for a little longer.

As the stars began to flicker out, like little switches being flipped, the Osprey rose from the destroyed city, billowing dust, and took off, setting it's engines into high gear, and then, it left the city behind. The sun would rise again in about three hours, and shine it's light upon the destruction left behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

**Our Utopia**

THE SKY WAS BEGINNING TO lighten, and the Osprey sliced through the morning air and clouds like a two-edged knife. Inside the cockpit, it was fairly quiet, and the cyborg sat in the co-pilots seat, silent as the pilot navigated through the cloud cover. The sliding door opened behind them, and the young woman stepped through, coming up and leaning on the rail that ran across the cockpit behind the pilot and co-pilot.

'Eight hours, twelve minutes,' she said. 'She sure knows who to sleep.'

Of course, she was referring to Deunan, who still lay unconscious in the hold, her heart rate monitored on the screen in front of the cyborg. When he didn't reply, the young woman leant closer to him, studying his solemn face, which showed no signs that he was listening, or for that matter, cared. Her short cut, dark brown hair falling across her cheek as she tilted her head thoughtfully, she added,

'For a legendary soldier, she's awful cute when she sleeps,' she said, probing the cyborg for an answer. She went on when he still refused to answer, but this time, she was tentative, careful about what she said. 'Do you think knows about your body?'

The cyborg shook his head, and she bit her lip and nodded before looking out the front windscreen.

'She's bound to be amazed, at seeing our Utopia,' she said softly, almost wistful, and this seemed to humour the cyborg into speaking.

'Utopia, huh?' he asked, and she smiled, and then, the pilot opened a radio link and spoke into it.

'This is Olympus, A-F 5, we are requesting permission to land,' he said, and the young woman, her name was Hitomi, turned her attention to him.

'Keep a wide birth until they confirm our I.D,' she said. 'Otherwise the Mobile Fortress' will fill us full of holes.'

The pilot nodded again, and tapped back into the radio line.

'Olympus – ' he was cut off by a recorded female voice.

'Identification verified, proceed to the platform,' came the order, and the pilot nodded, breaking from the top of the cloud line and banking off to the right.

'This is Olympus G2E9,' the cyborg said as the pilot signalled off. 'Commencing landing procedure.'

The clouds seemed to swallow them, and soon, they emerged into a bright blue sky, white clouds drifting by them and a shining city spread below them. The most obvious thing about the city was that it wasn't obliterated and reduced to ashes like the Badlands – it was a beautiful, uncontaminated city that seemed to thrive with life. Cars sped down the long, open highways – buildings towered high above everything below them with solar-power plated windows, all tinted and tilted to catch the best of the suns bright rays. Sprigs of green flourished in parks on the rooftop gardens on some buildings. However, all of this paled in comparison to the two monumental buildings that stood like two arcs in the centre of the city. They were massive structures shaped like upside down letter "U"s – contortions of metal framework and steel scaffolds, all bracing the hexagonal shaped solar panels that rotated in co-ordinance to the suns whereabouts. The two structures alone could generate enough solar energy to power the city for at least three years, maybe more.

As the Osprey swooped into the airspace of the magnificent city, they passed over several incredible structures that resembled massive cannons on a dome base. There were fifteen in total – all of them scattered around the edge of the city like armed guards; silent, still, and weary. However, the city inside the structures seemed to swell with life – and the Osprey headed over the cityscape towards a building that stood not too far away from the two massive arcs, and hovered before beginning to descend. As it came down, people in blue jumpsuits with the letters "ES.W.A.T" printed on the backs came out to help guide the Osprey down. When it had landed, orders had begun to issue over the radio again, and the cyborg got up, went into the hold, and looked over the face of the young soldier. He breathed a sigh of relief, a rush of air inside his helmet – she had been this close to being mercenary chowder. He might not be there for her again the next time.

…

I was back in the war zone – wait, was I? It seemed like it. I could remember polishing my gun, a trusty grenade launcher, when he approached. We'd been together, alone in this barren world, for the passed few months. No other human contact – I was still impressed that neither of us had gone insane. His footsteps, sure and steady, came to a halt in front of me, and I looked up and smiled at him as I set down the dirty rag I'd been using to wipe grime from the grenade launcher. I was sitting against a blown out wall, the launcher between my legs.

'Briareos,' I said, and he nodded down to me, although it was like he didn't really see me. The sun that was slowly sinking below the horizon, to our far west, highlighted the contours of his handsome face. He had his own gun slung over his shoulder – an Armscor MMGL, not too unlike my own.

'I'm going up ahead to scout around,' he said without acknowledging my greeting – yeah, that was the thing about Briareos. He didn't believe in co-incidences, he didn't accept apologies – he thought apologies were a sure sign of weakness, although often enough, he'd whispered those words to me as he'd held me tight in the darkness of the war zone, as gunfire shattered the peace around us. But this time, he was unnaturally still and quiet, like he didn't want to get close.

Scrambling to my feet, I grinned, feeling the thrills of adrenaline tickle my veins.

'I'll come with you!' I said quickly as he started walking again, not waiting for me – and he paused, and his shoulders slumped. What was wrong? The adrenaline died, and I felt a small lead weight drop in my stomach. Was he hurt? He didn't seem hurt, but he seemed …sad. He sighed, and I knew for sure something was wrong.

'No, Deunan,' he said softly, but with clear authority. 'Stay here.'

He started walking again, and despite my urge to run after him, I stayed where I was, almost frozen to the spot. A direct order – I had defied them many times, but this order, coming from Briareos, didn't seem deniable. Briareos never left me behind – he never went out alone without someone to watch his back, without me at his side. He didn't turn back to me, but he lifted a hand over his shoulder and called back,

'Relax – I'll be back before you know it.'

Something lodged in my throat – I had never seen him act like this. This was Briareos we were talking about – _my_ Briareos. The Briareos that never took a chance if it meant endangering someone's life. The Briareos that let me rest as he guarded our position, the Briareos that had slung me over his shoulder when I'd copped a bullet in the gut, and had run for cover while still under heavy fire. The Briareos who didn't leave anyone behind.

'Briareos…?' I said quietly, knowing he couldn't hear me – I just said his name because I knew the rest of the world could hear me. It was like I was being watched from every possible hiding place, but Briareos was already on the far side of the courtyard and weaving his way through the rubble.

He hadn't even turned back. He hadn't even said where he was going, he'd just left. That was the last time I'd seen Briareos, and he hadn't even said goodbye.  
And that was what hurt my heart the most.

…

The screen showed the soldiers face as a pale image, and her unconscious form lay on the hospital bed, silent and unmoving. A door on the opposite wall slid open, and Hitomi and a doctor walked through, Hitomi examining a digi-board the doctor had handed her.

'So,' she said with a small smile. 'I see you gave her a full work up.'

'Just following orders from the Legislate.' The doctor nodded, going over to a panel to one side and pressing several buttons, checking the soldier's vital signs.

'I can't believe she's still asleep,' Hitomi said, standing over the soldier and looking down over her features. She leant closer, examining the soldier's face. 'Maybe we gave her the one dose of anaesthesia?'

…

I could hear them talking – my mind woke like an old television set – sound coming first. I held very, very still, keeping my breathing even and balanced, and hoped to hell they didn't have some sort of new technology that could tell if you were asleep or not. That would really, really make my day about ten times worse than it already was. I had no clue where I was, I was in some sort of hospital unit in unknown, possibly hostile, territory and my head was swimming with the drugs I'd been shot up with. Man – this was worse than that time Jadane had found that old medi-kit in an old bunker and had found out-dated Valium in it. I'd clipped a bullet in the gut, and the pain was so bad, James had insisted that he give me some of the stuff, if to just stop me from complaining. Let me tell you – not pretty side effects. The stuff was so rancid I'd puked for a week straight afterwards, aggravating the wound and we'd had to call in an early evacuation squad, which had picked us up two days later.

Anyway – the situation at hand was that I didn't know where I was, I'd been drugged, and there were now two new figures on the game table – that woman doctor who had set me up on this hospital cot and another – she sounded…young? Too young. But young with authority…damn, my head was so screwed up I couldn't even think straight.

'Maybe we gave her the wrong dose of anaesthesia?' the new voice said, and I felt a whisper of breath across my stomach – and I cleared my head enough to vision that she was leaning over me. If she was as slender as her voice suggested, I'd have no trouble flipping up and over her head. If I could just get my head to stop swimming…

I took my chance, opening my eyes and suddenly wishing I hadn't. The bright glare of the overhead lights made me wanna cry out, but instead, I fuelled my soldier instincts and brought my legs up, tearing off the patches the woman doctor had place on my body, and, using the power in my shoulders, I pulled myself forward and got my hands beneath me. I shoved up, hard, and did an off-the-ground handspring, and launched myself into the air, straightening my legs and going into a flip. I saw the young woman – I was right, she had been leaning over me, and she was coming up straight, but everything seemed like it was in slow motion, until the monitor and IV drip that had been attached to me fell over and clattered to the floor and I landed, right behind her. I immediately grabbed her arm and hooked one of my own around her neck, she gasped and grabbed at my wrist with her free hand, but I brought her back tight against me, and the woman doctor held up her hands in a "whoa, stop" gesture. Guess what? Not bloody likely, lady. I was getting outa here.

'Move and I snap your neck,' I hissed in the young woman's ear, and she sucked in a breath. My voice sounded raspy and my throat hurt – first thing I did when I got out of here was to find somewhere to crash, something to drink.

Which would have been fine, if two security guards hadn't run into the room at that moment, their guns raised and ready to shoot. I hauled the young woman back, forcing her to step back with me, but the gunmen didn't lower their weapons. Typical. I spied the door, and started to move towards it, sidestepping along the wall. I felt the cool air of the air conditioner on my back, and realized I was only in my bra and briefs. Fantastic – I could see the headlines now: SEMI-NUDE SOLDIER MAKES CLEAN GETAWAY. Yeah – like that one was gonna hold in court.

I got to the door, pushed the green button so it went blue and blinked "OPEN" at me, and the door slid open. I readied myself to let go of the young woman and make a dive for the dark hallway. My options: get shot up by security guards in an attempt to escape, or make it into the hallway and try to navigate my way through a darkened hall with no clue where the hell I was headed. Both options stank, big time.

I chose the second in the last moment, just before a loud, oddly familiar voice said,

'Second platoon leader Deunan Knute, stand down at once.'

A direct order. And undeniable order – and I knew this only because of one thing. It was the voice I'd heard for so long, in real life and in my dreams, the one that had whispered he'd loved me and that he was sorry that we both lived in this shit-fest called our lives. It was Briareos's voice. But…deeper? More – more robotic?

'Briareos,' I whispered, knowing all eyes were trained on me. I looked into the dark hallway, where the voice had come from, and saw five red eyes looking back at me. One large one in the middle, and two on either side. The figure stepped from the shadows, and I saw that he wasn't the same – I wouldn't have looked at him twice if I hadn't heard his voice.

Oh, my God. My stomach dropped as I realized why – this _was_ Briareos. _This_ was him, _holy God_ – what had happened to him?

He was a cyborg.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

**Safe House**

'I DON'T BELIEVE IT,' I said. It was night outside – they'd cleared me from the hospital and, as it turned out, the young woman I'd taken hostage had turned out to be a military-slash-government big-wig – she was the Secretary of Defence, to be exact, and she'd taken me to a safe house that was to be mine – not that I was planning on staying here too long. And Briareos…

'I know it's hard, but the facts are there, Deunan,' the young woman – I think she introduced herself as Hitomi – said. She had short, dark hair that fell around her face in bangs and she was wearing a denim outfit and red high-heels. I looked her up and down. On friendly enough terms that we're using names already? Huh. I narrowed my eyes and dropped my gaze to my white cargo shorts. I was wearing the shorts, the white slipper shoe things that the safe house had been provided with, and a white flannel singlet. Mainly since my own only set of clothes were, you know, unwashed and filthy combat cargos.

'So…' still processing everything I'd just been told, I chose my words carefully. 'After all those years of fighting, there was no clear winner to the Global War?'

'Right,' Hitomi smiled. 'And now Olympus governs the world. The ruling body is comprised of the former General Administration Agency.'

Which to me meant that a lot of government big-wigs had gotten together over cups of tea and biscuits to figure out who was going to do what with the mess of the world. At least, that was the impression I got.

'So for months, I've been fighting one meaningless battle after the other without knowing anything,' I said slowly, and Hitomi shrugged those narrow, girlish shoulders of hers.

'Well, that's war for you,' she said. There was a pause, and then she continued. 'But in Olympus, mankind has finally achieved a state of utopia, in a fair and balanced society.'

And that meant…what? To me, all that meant was everyone had decided to play nice because they didn't want to die anymore. But I guess beggar can't be choosers, so the fact that I'd been left out in the war zone mindlessly taking on enemy after enemy for what felt like forever made me feel kinda useless here, since everyone else had forgotten to invite me along to play house in this "new world" of theirs.

I leant back in my seat, looking around me. The safe house was cushy, but hey – it was comfortable. I wasn't going to start complaining since the last "safe house" I was in was four brick walls and a concrete floor, which was torn apart by some incredibly heavy artillery about five hours after we'd reached it. But since there was no enemy choppers flying overhead with guns nastier than their swear words, and there was no one screaming, I felt quite safe, to tell the truth. I don't really remember the last time I felt safe, and it was a bit of a strange feeling, suddenly being safe and protected. The thought of this made me think of something.

'So what do you need me for?' I asked, drawing one knee up to my chest, and Hitomi leant forward and took a sip from the cup of coffee on the table in front of us.

'Even an ideal society needs great warriors. ESWAT has had you on the top of their reinforcement lists for some time now.' She said, and I threw a glance at Briareos. He was standing by the window, facing away from us. It was like he'd just…turned off. Like someone had flicked a switch and he'd stopped working. His arms were folding across his chest; his legs shoulder width apart, and he was staring blankly out at the city spreading out away from us.

I looked back at Hitomi.

'ESWAT?' the sound rolled out of my mouth like a pinball – a good sounding word, at least, it would have been if I'd known what the heck it meant. Hitomi smiled and stood daintily.

'I'm sure you must have a lot of questions,' she said with that same sweet smile. 'But for now just get some rest. I'll swing by in the morning and give you a tour.' She started heading towards the door, but stopped and leaned over the back of the couch I was sitting in and smiled down at me. 'I just know you're going to like it here – our little utopia.'

I had an inward chuckle at that – I had a feeling I was going be getting myself into some sort of trouble the moment I found myself in an armoury in this place – just a knack I happen to have; you know, along with the whole butt-kicking female soldier image.

'Your bedroom is right in here,' Hitomi said, pressing a pad on the side of a wall – the wall became transparent to show a wide bed with a dresser, wardrobe and other bedroom necessities. I turned to look at it in surprise – one thing I had forgotten about. Heh – what was I thinking, that I'd sleep on the couch? 'It must have been ages since you've slept in a warm bed,' Hitomi smiled before turned back for the door. 'I'll pick you up at ten a.m sharp.'

Something struck me about the way she moved something I thought I recognized – I stood and turned to her.

'Hitomi – that is your name, right?' I was still uncertain that Hitomi _was_ her name, since she'd been called a range of things by a handful of different people while we'd been going through security checks and so forth earlier on today. She stopped and looked back at me.

'Correct.'

Something still nagging at the back of my mind, I asked, 'Do we know each other?'

She giggled and shot an almost unnoticeable glance at Briareos, who still hadn't moved. 'I don't think so,' she said sweetly. 'Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning.'

And with that, she left, her high heels clicking over the lino floor, the door sliding shut behind her, leaving me in silence with the non-responsive tin man at the window.

I watched him for a moment, thinking through everything that had happened today, last night, the nights before…I wondered how much he knew. Something drew my eyes to his legs – the steel calves and the other cyborg parts of his body.

'When did you…?' I didn't know how to finish, didn't even know if he was going to respond. He'd said very little throughout the time we'd been in the same room as one another today, so I didn't know what to expect from him.

To my surprise, he sighed.

'On the North African front,' he said quietly, his voice a deeper tone through the metal of his helmet. 'My body was…badly damaged.' My eyes went from the odd metallic rabbit ears on either side of his head, to his huge hands, to his legs again. 'That was a year ago.'

Wow. That one hit hard – I sat back down. He'd almost been killed just a year ago? That was around the same time he'd disappeared – give or take a few months maybe. And I'd had no clue. I looked down at my feet. I felt kind of… humbled – how could I complain that I had been going through hell without him, when he'd been going through hell just to stay alive? Admittedly I had been doing exactly that, trying to stay alive, but whatever had happened to him must have been maybe three times as bad as the worst that had happened to me. Questions bombarded my brain, and I wanted so desperately to ask him, but I didn't know where to start.

Heavy footsteps across the carpet headed my way – and Briareos set down a handgun on the glass coffee table. I looked up, wondering what he was doing giving it to me.

'It was Carl's,' he said, and my fathers face drifted into my head. 'A keepsake of your fathers. Don't let it get confiscated.'

I picked up the handgun, checked the sights on it, the safety catch, the barrel, the magazine – all intact and working condition. Briareos headed towards another door of the safe house, in the opposite wall to the one Hitomi had left through.

'Call me if you need anything.'

That's got to have been the nicest thing he'd said to me _all blinking day_. I stood again, suddenly not wanting him to go.

'Briareos,' he stopped. 'Do you have any idea…who attacked out there?' of all the questions I could have asked, that one tumbled out of my mouth. He paused, his head drooping a little, but he didn't look back.

'No,' he said at last, and then, the door opened and he left. The room on the other side of the door was dark, from what I could see, but the door closed too soon for me to get a good look. Alone again, I sighed. I guess the only thing I could really do now was try to get some sleep. I was used to sleeping in different places, don't get me wrong, but I had grown used to being comfortable on concrete floors, not springy mattresses and soft blankets. Somehow I didn't think tonight was going to be an easy one.

Throwing myself down on the bed, I stared up the ceiling, my father's handgun limp in my hand. It had been cool from Briareos's touch, and now, was warm in mine. Curling up on my side, I tried to believe I was going to be comfortable, and that I was going to get more than four hours sleep tonight. But after a few moments of screwing my eyes closed and trying to slow my breathing, I gave up, and got up.

**…**

On the other side of the door, Briareos heard Deunan moving around. It hurt his heart to watch her go through this, to have to get used to living a life off the battle field – it was hard to not be able to hold her again, tell her it was going to be okay.

But he felt…awkward, now that he was different. The way she looked at him, it was like she saw someone else, a shell of who he used to be covered up by some impressive cybernetics and a voice speaker. And that hurt most of all.

Briareos sat down on the case he'd brought with him – it held his gun and a few other essentials for guarding her, and stared at his hands. So many things were racing through his mind – until something else intruded. An message – from the outside; an encrypted code that read only one thing.

One thing that only his mind was privy too.

**…**

I found a more comfortable spot with my back against the wall of the bedroom. Admittedly the carpet was still slightly springier than I would have liked, but I couldn't complain since I felt the reassuring pressure of concrete beneath my shoulder and hip. Almost like it used to be.

Yes – I was on the floor. Call me what you like, but I'm more comfortable where the enemy would least expect to find someone in a safe house. And the first place they'd be looking is the bed.

But although I knew nothing could get passed the security system Hitomi had shown me on our way in, I still held my fathers handgun as I closed my eyes again and tried to relax.

And amazingly, I slept.


End file.
